Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
I open my mouth to respond and then snap it closed when I realize that he's deadly serious. Good Lord. Serena was not joking when she warned me that he was trouble. I'm just not entirely sure what kind of trouble he is yet. But more and more, I find it harder to deny that he isn't precisely the kind I like. A little too much.
He's turning my whole life upside down and inside out. Hell, he's turning me upside down and inside out. And some crazy, irrational, wild part of me loves it. I feel like someone brand new with him, someone completely free. I've never felt that way before, like I can say whatever I want, do whatever I want, and be perfectly accepted. He doesn't judge me. He doesn't laugh at me. He just…freaking grins like he fucking loves it.
I swallow hard, dangerously close to crossing a line that there won't be any coming back from. If I unbend now, he's going to ruin me. I'll give him every single piece of myself. And then what? What happens when he gets bored? What happens when he decides to walk away?
What happens if he doesn't? that damn little voice whispers. And maybe that's the most terrifying question of all. Because it's the one I don't know how to answer. My whole life, no one has ever stayed. Not my father. Not the foster families I was placed with. Hell, not even my mom. And maybe that wasn't her fault or her choice, but she still left me alone.
So…what happens if that doesn't happen? What happens if he stays?
I have no idea. And that's terrifying.
Logan leans forward, reaching for my hands. I don't know why I do it, maybe because I'm desperate to stop thinking, but I practically launch myself at him. He growls, hauling me up against his chest.
"You done being mad at me now?" he asks, his lips inches from mine.
"You give me a new reason to be angry every five minutes."
His hands sink into my hips, yanking me flush against him. "Yeah? Then maybe I should spend the time in between giving you reasons to forget, angel. Think I can make you come before I piss you off again?"
"No." I pull his hair, which makes him growl. And that sound? I feel it scraping against my clit. "I'm not sleeping with you, remember?"
"Who said anything about sleeping? You'll be too fucking busy screaming my name to rest." He attacks my mouth, grunting as he flicks his tongue against the seam of my lips, silently demanding entry.
When I deny him, he plunges his hand into my hair, snapping the band holding the bun in place. I whimper as he cranes my head back, not being gentle about it. Lava flows through my veins, setting my system on fire.
"Fucking open, Peyton. Now," he snarls.
"Make me," I gasp.
His hand tightens in my hair. He shoves the other one down the back of my skirt, gripping one ass cheek hard. God, I shouldn't love the way he touches me like I'm his. His rough possession is going to annihilate me, and I do absolutely nothing to stop or dissuade him. I egg him on, unable to resist when the pleasure feels this damn good.
"Want to dare me again, baby?" he breathes, his fingers sliding down the crevice of my ass. "Or do I need to play with this little hole to get you to behave?"
"Logan," I moan, pushing back against him.
"Ah, goddamn," he growls. "You'd let me do it, wouldn't you?"
"Yes."
He snarls like a wild beast, attacking my mouth again. I let him in this time, too turned on to keep pretending I don't want him all over me. We both know it's a lie anyway. I'm playing with fire, praying to God we both burn.
What else am I supposed to do when I ache every time he looks at me? Every time he smiles at me? He's driving me out of my mind without even trying. And he knows it, damn him. Logan Moreno is Kryptonite, making me weak, poisoning my good sense. And I fucking love it.
He tips me backward on his lap, draping my body across his knees. "You're going to make yourself come just like this," he growls, already yanking my skirt up my thighs. "I want to watch you squirm and whimper and beg while you fuck yourself with your fingers like you did on the phone."
"Logan," I groan, a wave of heat blasting through me at the thought of him watching me get myself off. Part of me wants to say no, but the other part? The part that wants this man as wild and crazy as he makes me. That part is fully on board.
"Get that perfect hand between your legs, baby," he orders, the gritty rasp of his voice sending a heatwave rolling over me.